


save room for us

by hiddeninplainsight



Category: Women's Association Football | Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-26 17:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddeninplainsight/pseuds/hiddeninplainsight
Summary: "Tobin, what is this?"Christen's holding a black velvet box that she never wanted her to find."I can explain.""No, what is this?""What do you think it is?""I-""I was going to propose. You were it for me, and for some stupid reason I can't figure out, you stillare."--two people who walked the fine line of casual and serious for so long are at the point in their lives where it makes sense to be together, but just because it makes sense doesn't mean it's going to be easy.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 17
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> lol, hi. enjoy.

**(present, 2018)**

_Hi Tobin, it’s Christen. Um, Christen Press. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen or spoken. But well—well I’m back. For good. And I—um, wanted to ask if you would like to grab coffee? Or something. To you know, catch up. So yeah…I hope to hear from you soon. Bye._

Tobin replays the voicemail, making sure that she’s hearing correctly because it doesn’t seem real. She thought it was a dream, imagining the sound she tried so hard to forget. As if she could. No amount of alcohol could erase the voice she spent years with. It’s an unexpected surprise, which is an overstatement, but it is miniscule to the weight of what it means.

She returned home late last night after monthly game night with Kelley, Emily and Lindsey. Her and Emily kicked ass while Kelley literally tried to kick their ass due to pure frustration of losing multiple times in _Splendor_. She wanted to start placing bets, but Lindsey suggested that they don’t for her sanity (and the safety of others). Tobin, however, took her up on it and they had their separate stakes on games while the younger players shook their head.

Tobin’s phone died early in the night, and she didn’t ask for a charger, too engrossed with taking Kelley’s money, nor did she bother to plug it in before she went to bed. But when she went to charge her phone this morning, the first notification that popped up was from someone she never thought would contact her. 

Tobin takes a deep breath, tossing the phone next to her after listening to the voicemail for a third time. Shaking her head, she stops herself from spiraling of all the thoughts and emotions that she locked away almost two years ago. She grabs her phone to call the one person who can talk her through this. Talk some sense into her too.

After the third ring, there’s a disgruntled answer.

“Tobin?”

“Hey, can you get breakfast right now?”

Kelley yawns followed by a dramatic sigh, “Tobin, it’s so fucking early. What the hell?”

Tobin glances at the clock on her nightstand and it’s barely past eight, more than an acceptable time to be awake on a Sunday morning. “It’s not that early.”

“We were up until three,” Kelley says flatly, and Tobin senses the irritation in her friend’s voice for disrupting her sleep.

“So breakfast or what?” Tobin ignores the comment because she _really_ needs this, more than she’d like to admit.

“Fine,” Kelley yawns again. “You’re paying. Usual place?”

“Yes,” Tobin agrees without hesitation. “See you in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kelley mutters before hanging up, not giving her the chance to respond. 

Tobin doesn’t know how she feels, but she _knows_ how Kelley will feel.

And she doesn’t know which is worse. 

\--

Tobin sits across from Kelley, who’s slouching onto the table as she slowly sips her coffee, trying to fully wake up earlier than she wanted to be after drinking with her friends and losing two hundred dollars. Tobin won’t mention that she’s paying for breakfast with her money, that’d rub salt in the wound.

The waitress bounds cheerily to their table much to Kelley’s dismay, asking if they’re ready, which Kelley grumbles her order of chicken and waffles while Tobin politely asks for a breakfast burrito.

“Okay spill,” Kelley asks a few minutes after the waitress takes their order. The life slowly coming back into her friend’s freckled face as she sits straighter. “What could have possibly happened in between the time you left last night to this morning?”

“Christen’s back.”

Kelley tilts her head curiously, waiting for Tobin to elaborate.

“For good.”

The realization crosses Kelley’s face so blatantly that Tobin holds in her laugh. Her friend’s face goes from shocked to blank to furrowed eyebrows in less than ten seconds.

“She’s back,” Kelley says evenly, which Tobin nods. “And you know this how?”

Tobin pulls her phone out from her pocket and hands it to Kelley to listen to the voicemail. She watches Kelley’s face closely, looking for any clue on her what she’s thinking. She has an idea of what it could be, and she’s always been able to gauge Kelley’s thoughts based on expressions alone.

However, Kelley’s face remains at an impasse. Even when she taps the screen to listen to the voicemail again. She doesn’t say anything when the phone is handed back to Tobin, tucking it back in her pocket.

“So?” Tobin asks after a moment, trying not to seem _too_ eager to know what her friend thinks

“She’s back,” Kelley shrugs, looking down at her empty cup, making a face when she realizes she wants a refill. It almost looks like she wants something stronger than the coffee.

“Yes, and?”

“And what Tobin?” Kelley brings her gaze back to Tobin, eyes narrowing slightly.

“What do you think?”

“Like you care what I think,” Kelley scoffs, rolling her eyes as if it’s obvious.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean,” Kelley shrugs again, sinking into her chair. “What I think or how I feel doesn’t matter when it comes to Christen.”

“That’s not—”

“Please. Don’t tell me it’s not. I’ve learned through the years that whatever I, Alex or Allie say, hell even _Sonnett_ , will not affect your choices,” Kelley states frankly. The words sting Tobin, but Kelley doesn’t notice. “But I’ll say this much. I’m happy she’s back. I really am. Christen was one of my best friends, and to some extent, she always will be, _but_ with how everything went down… No fuck that. I can’t get on board with the idea of her and you being together because I don’t trust her. Not after that.”

“Who says we’re going to get back together? And hello, don’t you remember? We were never actually together.”

“Please. Together, not actually together, tomato, potato,” Kelley mocks, waving a dismissive hand in Tobin’s direction. “It’s impossible to keep you apart. You can act like you’re just friends,” She raises her hands, bending both index and middle fingers, “But it’s only a matter of time before you either kiss or fuck or both.”

Tobin doesn’t respond, nor does Kelley say anything else.

Because deep down, Tobin knows it’s true.

She’s had a soft spot for Christen since the day they met, and sometimes (most of the time), rational thought and self-control go out the window when it involves Christen.

Their food arrives and Christen isn’t mentioned during the rest of the meal.

They talk about their game against Seattle next weekend and the dinner Allie planned somewhere in the Pearl District, which Kelley’s unsure if Allie’s the best person to choose since the last time Allie chose, Kelley had food poisoning. Right before a game.

They discuss their upcoming international friendlies, the first in Los Angeles, and Tobin suggests to Kelley they stay a couple days after to surf, which isn’t that hard of a bargain to convince her. 

Once they finish their food and the bill’s settled, they’re standing outside of the restaurant, Tobin stretching a little before Kelley speaks.

“Look,” Her long-time friend starts. “I was pretty harsh in there and I apologize for that. It’s way too early for my sass.”

“Kell-”

“Nope, I’m talking right now,” Kelley interrupts before Tobin can get a word in. “I also need to say this and I swear this will be the last thing I say, but I love you guys together. You bring out the best in each other, but with that, the worst too. I want you to be happy, I do. If you and Christen can work everything out, that’d be perfect. But please _please_ Tobin, be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Again.”

“We’re not going to be _anything_ ,” Tobin emphasizes after Kelley’s words sink in.

“You say that now.”

“Okay you’re right,” Tobin’s shoulders drop, defeated. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with her. I really don’t, but she’ll always be important to me and I can’t not have her in my life especially if we’re in the same country, let alone the same city.”

“I know,” Kelley sighs dejectedly, but shakes her head. “Just be careful.”

“I will,” Tobin nods her head, saying nothing else.

It’s a warning more than anything. Kelley can be upset and frustrated all she wants, but at the end of the day, it’s Tobin and Christen’s choice about what they do. Or don’t do. Their friends can only say so much. Tobin risked a lot before, nearly everything. She doesn’t know if she’d do it again, but she’s getting ahead of herself.

She hasn’t even _seen_ Christen yet.

\--

It was bound to happen.

Tobin knew it was a matter of time before she stumbles into Christen. She’s seen a couple of the girls she’s hooked up with multiple times while walking down the street. Portland isn’t a big city, and the downtown area is much smaller than Chicago or San Francisco.

“Tobin?”

The soccer player looks to the direction of the voice from the shelves of craft beers she’s been staring at the past five minutes, searching for the one that Kelley was obsessed with in Los Angeles—some peanut butter cup porter.

“Christen?”

“Oh my god, hi!” Christen walks over to where she’s standing, which Tobin notices that Christen doesn’t go in for the hug like she used to, but Christen’s arm awkwardly goes across her body. “I wasn’t sure if it was you.”

“Well it’s me,” Tobin says, rolling her eyes playfully and opens her arms. “Get over here.”

Christen’s laugh brings a familiar warmth to Tobin’s chest as she wraps her arms around the retired soccer player, reveling in Christen’s body close to hers.

“Hi,” Christen says softly, leaning back enough to look at Tobin.

“Hi,” Tobin smiles, which Christen returns, wide and bright and just how she remembers.

They stare at each other a little while longer, so many things that need to be said, but choosing to remain silent, not wanting to ruin this honest moment of taking the other in after _so_ long.

“So,” Christen unwraps her arms from Tobin’s waist, taking a step back. “You never called me back.”

Tobin’s mildly surprised that Christen called her out, but there’s a reason. A few, actually.

Tobin planned to call her back the same day, but her and Kelley along with Lindsey and Emily drove out to the coast to hike the sand dunes.

She told herself that she would call Christen sometime that following week, but Allie and Pinoe arrived a couple days earlier before their game to have dinner and hang out. Kelley asked Tobin if she was going to say anything because Pinoe was also best friends with Christen, but Tobin didn’t answer, not wanting to get into that with Pinoe. As close as Tobin is with Pinoe, she has always had Christen’s back. Even when they went through what they went through, Pinoe understood Tobin’s side, but she also understood Christen’s.

And, well, Tobin psyched herself out of calling Christen because she didn’t know what she wanted to do. She didn’t know what she wanted to say either. Her mind was in a constant overdrive, weighing the pros and cons of something she didn’t know what she was even weighing the pros and cons for, but it was Christen. The only person who has this kind of power of her.

“I’m sorry?” Tobin smiles sheepishly, bringing her hand to rub the back of her head, and Christen rolls her eyes.

“It’s been a month since I called you.”

“I’ve been busy,” Tobin defends, and it isn’t a lie. Their regular season is ending, which Portland is a contender to make playoffs, and there are a few more friendlies they’re obliged to play in. The World Cup is around the corner too, but Tobin hasn’t thought that ahead.

“I know, Kelley texts me almost every other day,” Christen says nonchalantly. 

“What? She has?” Tobin asks in disbelief. She sees Kelley almost every day, and she had not once mentioned she spoke with Christen.

“Well yeah, I didn’t just call you when I got back stateside,” Christen explains, shrugging indifferently. “I asked her if you were okay one day while we were on the phone since you never returned my call. I wanted to know if you were alive at least.”

Tobin’s stomach starts to churn, a little guilty about ignoring Christen. She didn’t mean to, but she’s scared for Christen to be back in her life, especially with their track record. Even as a friend, Tobin feels uneasy about the situation because as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, Kelley’s right. Her words echo in her mind. It’s only a matter of time before they cross that line into something that further complicates their already complex relationship.

“I’m sorry,” Tobin says honestly, because she is. There isn’t much else she could say.

“I know,” Christen says, a small smile appearing on her face. “But since I ran into you today, dinner some time this week?” Tobin agrees without second thought, and Christen’s smile gets wider.

Tobin smiles and brings her attention back to the rows of beer, still looking for the damn beer. If she shows up empty handed, Kelley won’t let up that she might have to resort and ask a friend to send it up. 

“What’re you looking for?”

“This stupid beer Kelley had in LA,” Tobin mutters, huffing after no luck.

“What’s it called?” Christen asks, leaning slightly into Tobin’s body.

“I don’t know, all I know is that it’s a peanut butter cup flavored beer,” Tobin says, sighing in defeat.

“That one?” Christen points to the beer in front of them. The exact label she remembers, thanks to Kelley sending it to her every day.

“Son of a bitch,” Tobin says under her breath, grabbing a case before turning to Christen with an embarrassed smile. “What would I do without you?” She jokes.

Christen looks down shyly, “I don’t want to find out.”

Tobin coughs uncomfortably at the answer, bringing her other hand to rub the back of her neck again, and she senses Christen take a noticeable step away.

“What’re you up to tonight?” Tobin asks, lazily swinging the case of beer over her shoulder, turning to face Christen.

“Um,” Christen bites her lip, thinking. “Nothing really. I came here to get food for dinner.”

“How do you feel about making Kelley lose?”

\--

“Oh my fucking god Press. If you fucking—son of a bitch!” Kelley yells as Christen counts her tokens and takes one of the cards laid out, totaling her score to 17 and winning a round _again._

They have been playing for the past couple hours, Christen winning most of the rounds. Tobin had won a couple, Emily won four, and Lindsey won one. Kelley, on the other hand, has lost every single round. It was her idea to play _Splendor_ , which she thought would be easy wins since Christen had never played before.

“I hate you all,” Kelley huffs, crossing her arms in frustration and leaning back against the chair.

The girls laugh, knowing how competitive Kelley gets, especially after losing like she did the month before.

When Tobin and Christen arrived at Kelley’s apartment, there was an initial shock to see the striker, but it quickly turned into a joyous reunion when Kelley jumped on Christen, nearly yelling that she couldn’t believe that she was actually there. 

Christen explained to Tobin that her and Kelley had been talking for the past month, but their schedules didn’t sync, which Tobin made the small comment that it would’ve been the same for her. Christen rolled her eyes, playfully, teasing Tobin that she would’ve found a way to make it work.

(Tobin doesn’t deny it.)

They ate dinner, courtesy of Emily cooking, where conversation flowed easily between the former teammates, as if Christen never left.

Christen had known Emily and Lindsey since they received their first call-ups for the national team, but only played with them for about a year before she retired, hanging up the boots for good. It was pleasant, catching up with their lives. Though, conversation hit a small bump of awkwardness when Kelley asked Christen why she came back. 

“Well, um, my mom’s sick,” Christen said, as they sat around the table, letting the food settle in their stomachs.

Tobin wasn’t aware of the situation, but she picked up on the hint of sadness in her voice. She knew that if Christen told her, she’d drop everything to be by her side. Given the looks on everyone else’s faces, they didn’t know either.

“Shit,” Kelley stood up from her seat, walking over to hug Christen. “I’m sorry, Chris. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” Christen said nervously, her voice slightly cracking, like it wasn’t any easier to talk about. “It is. They caught it early enough and she’s in remission. So I wanted to be closer to my family instead of traveling over a body of water.”

“But why Portland? Couldn’t you work in Los Angeles?” Lindsey asked.

It was a legitimate question. Christen was from southern California and there had to be many opportunities for her to work closer to home.

Christen glanced at Tobin before answering, “I could’ve, yeah. But I was offered to be the team operations manager.”

“Wait what? You’re working with us?” Kelley’s jaw dropped, which Tobin had to control her facial muscles, choosing to remain neutral because she couldn’t give away what she thought or felt.

Because in one way or another, this affected her.

“Yeah, I will be,” Christen said shyly. “The men’s team too.”

“That’s so cool!” Emily piped up from her seat. “That means we get to see you pretty much all the time right?”

Christen laughed, but nodded, “You’ll see me if you want to. I’ll definitely be at the home games, some away games, but for the most part, you can find me in the offices.”

“How come we didn’t hear about this?” Lindsay asked, slightly confused because there definitely would’ve been an announcement, or at least rumors circulating. 

“It’s not official yet,” Christen explained. “I’ll start when the season’s over to prep for next. I’m still getting settled in Portland along with finishing stuff up for Grassroots Soccer and doing a little consulting for the US Soccer Federation. So I might actually be traveling with you guys for the friendlies scheduled, Philadelphia and Chicago for sure. Not entirely sure about Minneapolis or Charlotte yet.” 

Tobin didn’t miss the knowing look Kelley threw her across the table, but she shakes her head. She doesn’t want to get into _that_ here.

“That’s exciting, can’t wait to go back to Chicago for the game with you! Isn’t that like one of your favorite cities?” Emily asked, remembering that Christen played there, but not realizing the magnitude of the question.

Christen gave a small smile, staring at Tobin, because only Tobin knew why Chicago had a special place in her heart, and replying softly, “Yeah, it is.”

After that somewhat heavy conversation, the group switched to a more light-hearted setting. They cleared the table of the plates and leftovers to set up for _Splendor_.

“I think I’m going to call it,” Christen says, organizing the chips and rearranging the cards so that they’re in order. “That was fun, even though it was kind of confusing. I think I got the hang of it.” She throws a not-so-subtle wink at Kelley.

Kelley huffs _again_ , rolling her eyes, “Whatever.”

“You’re the one that wanted to play this game,” Tobin comments, taking the chips from Christen and putting it back into the box.

“Well I thought I’d win,” Kelley sticks her tongue out, which Tobin reaches over to pull on it, but the defender slaps the hand away.

Lindsey and Emily laugh at their antics, standing up to start cleaning up the empty bowls and glasses. They don’t say anything as Tobin puts Kelley in a headlock, acting as if this was an every day occurrence.

“Oh let me help,” Christen offers, making a move to stand, but is immediately pushed down by Emily as she picks up the empty bowl.

“Nope, you’re the guest! And our soon-to-be manager, you aren’t lifting a finger in this household,” Emily states firmly, balancing the bowls, and adds, “Well, at least for tonight. Depends on how much you’re here, then I might have to put you on clean up duty.” Emily doesn’t give Christen the chance to reply, following Lindsey into the kitchen.

Tobin untangles herself from Kelley and raises her arms above her head to stretch her back. It’s been annoying her for the past week, likely overextending during a kick or something, so she’s been taking it easy. Though, wrestling with Kelley isn’t helping the healing process. Playoffs are around the corner and it doesn’t help that they have to get pulled for national team duties, which makes it hard to focus solely on the league.

“I’m gonna head out,” Tobin yawns, not realizing how tired she actually is.

Christen imitates Tobin, standing up and nodding her head, “I’ll walk out with you.”

Kelley looks between them, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Tobin. When they lock eyes, Tobin shakes her head, silently conveying that _absolutely_ nothing is going to happen. Kelley doesn’t believe her, but shrugs, and Tobin internally rolls her eyes because she _swears_ by it.

The two women bid their goodbyes, but not without Christen almost getting toppled by Emily because she was just so excited to see her and it had _been way too long_.

“See ya soon Chris,” Kelley hugs Christen while Tobin opens the door. “Sonny’s right. It has been way too long.”

“Well I’m here to stay,” Christen says, rubbing her hands up and down Kelley’s back.

“I hope so,” Kelley mumbles. She pulls away from Christen and gives Tobin a once-over. “I’ll see you on Monday. Thanks for the beer by the way.”

“Beer you didn’t even drink,” Tobin mutters, but grins. She was the tiniest bit annoyed that she went through all that trouble looking for the beer, for it to not be consumed.

“None of us were drinking tonight,” Kelley raises her hands in defense. “I didn’t want to be the only one.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tobin waves dismissively because that hasn’t stopped Kelley in the past, but she doesn’t want to get into it. “Ready Chris?”

Christen nods and says goodbye to Kelley once more, thanking her again for letting her crash game night.

Tobin lets Christen ahead to the elevators, watching her playfully elbow the elevator button. They stand next to each other, waiting patiently for the elevator to arrive. Christen’s leaning a little into Tobin, and it’s taking everything in her to not wrap an arm around the former soccer player.

Affection has always been natural between them.

Both of them did it and they never realized they were doing it until someone pointed it out. It was embarrassing whenever their teammates teased them for either standing too close or in Kelley’s words _one of you might as well sit on the other’s lap_. There was always a compulsion to be physically close if they were in the same room, and if they weren’t, they were sure to search for the other.

Before Tobin could give in, the elevator arrives. She waits for Christen to walk in first, following her in and leaning against the back wall. Christen pushes the ground floor button and the elevator slowly descends.

It’s a comfortable silence with the deep house music playing in the background.

Tobin notices Christen bobbing her head to the beat, and she can’t control her cheeks from contracting at how adorable she looks.

“What’re you smiling at?” Christen breaks the silence, raising an eyebrow.

Tobin smiles sheepishly, realizing she was caught admiring the woman. “You,” She replies honestly because there’s no reason for her to lie.

“What I do?” Christen smiles back, turning her body to face Tobin completely.

“You’re just adorable,” Tobin says, making Christen chuckle.

“Well thanks, I’m doing my best out here,” Christen smiles cheekily, winking awkwardly. That’s something she was never able to do properly.

“Where do you live?” Tobin asks once the elevator doors open.

“Near NW 23rd, close to the Levi’s store,” Christen answers as they walk out together.

“What? No way,” Tobin stops dead in her tracks, her shoes make a squeaky noise on the lobby floor.

“Yeah? Why?” Christen asks, confused by Tobin.

“That’s a few blocks from where I live,” Tobin clarifies, shaking herself out of something she didn’t want to think about. “Wanna share an Uber to your place?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Christen challenges, raising an eyebrow and a smile tugging at her lips. “Wanna get ice cream? I saw that there’s a Salt and Straw nearby.”

Tobin forgot she was tired, so how could she say no?

\--

Once they’re dropped off in front of the ice cream shop, there’s a small line formed outside. Tobin shrugs when Christen looks at her, not caring they have to wait a little. She’s tired, but tomorrow’s a hard chill day, so if she stays out a little later than she intended to, she can sleep in for as long as her body tells her to.

They fall in line, waiting and quietly talking about their lives. There’s a lot they have to catch up on and Tobin has questions she wants answers to, but there’s a time and place for when they have _that_ conversation. It’s superficial, talking about topics that are familiar, but not as simple as talking about the weather.

Christen vents to Tobin about the hassle of moving and the struggle of still not having the internet set up in her apartment, that she’s already become a regular at the coffee shop down the street. Tobin offers her condo if Christen didn’t want to spend money and is more than welcome to use her coffee maker.

Tobin opens up a bit about how she’s been struggling more than she’d care to admit this season, and the international friendlies they have scheduled isn’t helping her focus either. Christen reassures that it’s okay for her to not always be a hundred percent and to just take a moment to breathe every once in a while, reminding her that she plays because she loves the sport, and she can’t imagine doing anything else.

Conversation comes easy for the two, almost too easy, picking up as if there was never a time in their lives where they _didn’t_ talk. They avoid any discussion about that time period. Tobin wants to know how Christen’s time abroad went, but she’s not ready yet. It’s still a shock to her that Christen’s here.

Their conversation makes the line move faster that they’re already at the bar, ordering what they want, but not without Christen trying every flavor since it’s been so long (even though Tobin’s pretty sure she knows what she’s going to order).

“Hmmm,” Christen hums as she plays with the spoon in her mouth, looking at the menu to decide which flavor she likes best.

While Christen contemplates, Tobin orders, “Can I get a single scoop of the rocky road one in a waffle cone please?”

The employee nods politely as he prepares Tobin’s order.

Tobin sees Christen still trying to decide, and she shakes her head, making the executive decision to order _for_ her.

“Also, can I get a single scoop of the mint chocolate chip for this one?” Tobin gestures to Christen who squints at her in confusion. “In a cup please?”

“Sure, no problem,” The employee says, handing the cone to Tobin as he starts making Christen’s.

“Hey,” Christen whines, pulling on Tobin’s sleeve, as they take small steps to the register, “Why’d you do that?”

“Chris,” Tobin says in between licks, “Don’t act like that’s not the one you wanted.”

“You don’t know that!” Christen argues, as the employee hands her the cup. She lets go of Tobin’s sleeve, using the spoon to take a bite. Tobin smiles at the delighted sight cross Christen’s face as soon as the ice cream connects with her mouth. Her eyes nearly roll back as she sighs into the bite. “Fine,” Christen says dreamily. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Tobin states matter-of-factly, pulling her wallet out to pay for their ice cream.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” Christen asks when Tobin hands over her debit card to the cashier, fumbling for her wallet in her purse. 

“I’m paying,” Tobin shrugs, thanking the cashier once her card is handed back to her.

“You two are so cute,” The cashier comments, smiling at them brightly.

Tobin coughs, smiling awkwardly while Christen takes the comment in stride, saying, “Thanks!”

The two women walk out of the shop, Christen pulling Tobin into the direction of her building. They enjoy their ice creams with Christen’s arm lazily looped with Tobin’s.

It’s comfortable. It’s effortless. It’s familiar.

Tobin can’t shake the nagging feeling in her gut about how it isn’t a good idea to fall so easily back into _this_ —whatever _this_ may be. She can’t let on what she’s thinking or feeling because Christen has always been able to pick up on her subtle tells when she’s in her head.

And Christen makes it very easy for her to be _in her head_.

They’re not at the point where they can have an honest conversation about what happened, let alone try to figure out what they’re doing _now_. Because if Tobin’s being completely honest, she still doesn’t know, and the only thing she knows for certain is that she can’t stay away from Christen, no matter how hard she tries.

They make small talk about the stuff they see on their walk, Tobin pointing out restaurants she likes and telling Christen that they’ll try it out sometime, likely in the off-season when they aren’t too busy.

They stand outside Christen’s apartment building, facing each other, and Tobin realizes just how close Christen lives to her and tells her so.

“Really?” Christen asks, not fully believing her as she holds the empty ice cream cup.

“Yeah,” Tobin smiles sheepishly. “I’m like four blocks down, right across the stadium.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know that,” Christen says, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe I will come by for the Wi-Fi and free coffee.”

“Mi casa es su casa,” Tobin says in her forced Spanish accent, laughing at how wrong it sounds coming out of her mouth, which Christen does the same. Tobin knows the bare minimum of French, enough to get around, so speaking Spanish was never her forte even if Christen knew it fluently.

“So…” Christen trails off, staring at Tobin.

“So…”

“This is me,” Christen tilts her head to the building they’re standing outside of.

“I know,” Tobin smiles. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Maybe tomorrow morning? I have a few things I need to do for work,” Christen says shyly, looking down as if she’s too embarrassed to ask.

“Whenever Chris,” Tobin reassures, bringing her hand up to rub Christen’s arm lightly. “Tomorrow’s my hard chill day by the way, so I’ll likely just be existing.”

“Oh no,” Christen mocks, bringing her free hand to her chest. “How will I ever keep myself entertained?”

Tobin shakes her head, laughing at Christen’s teasing.

They smile at each other, not entirely ready to say goodbye, but it’s late and Tobin _really_ should leave (because she’d say yes if Christen asked her to stay).

Tobin’s hand is still on Christen’s arm, but it’s not moving and it’s just _there_.

It’s Christen who breaks their trance, stepping forward to wrap her arms around Tobin’s midsection, and Tobin naturally brings her own arms around Christen’s shoulders, hugging her tightly.

“It was really nice to see you,” Christen mumbles against Tobin’s neck, and Tobin squeezes tighter.

“It was,” Tobin says softly. “Don’t be a stranger okay?”

Tobin feels Christen nod, and she leans back to look straight into Tobin’s eyes.

“I won’t,” Christen says firmly, and Tobin sees just how much the woman in her arms _means_ it.

The conviction at which Christen says it _almost_ makes Tobin kiss her, but she shows a little bit more restraint and she swears Christen leans in closer.

But nothing happens.

Christen’s out of Tobin’s arms and they say goodbye one more time, Tobin waiting until Christen is completely inside the building, waving once the door shuts behind her.

Tobin turns to walk towards her apartment, lazily putting her hands in her pockets as she reflects on the night’s turn of events.

She feels something. She can’t quite place it.

Christen’s presence in her life had _always_ been good, but that doesn’t mean it was always _easy_.

Tobin would say she feels lighter, happier even, but there’s something looming over her. Something lurking in the shadows. Something. Whatever that something may be, she doesn’t know yet. She’s sure she’ll find out. That she knows she has no control over.

It isn’t a matter of when, but it’s a matter of _what_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back at it, enjoy!

**(past, 2009)**

Tobin stares at the girl across the field as she _fires_ the ball into the net, the goalie unable to deflect, reaction much slower.

“Hey,” Tobin slightly turns her head, calling to Whitney and Ashlyn stretching beside her. “Who’s that?” She points to the girl already has a ball at her feet, taking a moment before kicking it perfectly that it curves into the upper right corner. The goalie lets out an audible huff, slamming her gloved fists on the grass. She notices the small smirk on the girl’s face, but it vanishes the second the ball is thrown back to her.

“Her?” Whitney stands up to get a better look, tilting her head. “That’s Christen, Christen Press.”

“Sheesh,” Ashlyn comments as they watch the girl in question kick the ball from way past the goal box, the ball finding the back of the net _again_.

“How come I’ve never seen her?” Tobin asks, completely in awe by this girl’s technique. She’s not much of a scorer, but when she does, it’s usually not from _that_ far. Most of the time, it’s luck if it goes in.

This Christen Press makes it look effortless, like she does this in her sleep.

“Well, I think she recently got called up to the youth team,” Whitney explains, scratching her head, trying to remember. “But I’m not entirely sure. Ask O’Hara.”

Tobin searches the field for her friend who she’s known since she was sixteen, sees her tying her laces. Kelley looks up like she knew she was being watched, and waves, tucking the laces into her cleats and stands up, stretching a little before she jogs towards them.

Kelley should be warming up with her team, not making her way across the field to talk to players from the opposing team. It is the championship game after all.

“You guys ready to lose?” Kelley puffs her chest out, trying to intimidate the girls, who start laughing.

Ashlyn playfully shoves Kelley, who exaggerates the push and stumbles backwards dramatically, almost falling to the ground, “That wasn’t even that hard!”

“I could’ve hurt myself. Before the game mind you. Do you know how much Paul would kick my ass for the last game of my collegiate career?” Kelley sticks her tongue out that Ashlyn returns.

“Why are you even over here? Shouldn’t you be with your team?” Whitney asks.

“I caught Tobin staring at me, so I wanted to say hello,” Kelley shrugs, brushing off invisible dirt from her shoulder. “Why are you looking at me anyways? Miss my beautiful face? I know it’s been a while.” She makes kissy noises.

“No,” Tobin says flatly, rolling her eyes.

“She wants to know about Press,” Tobin pushes her teammate. “Ow, what the hell. You asked,” Whitney rubs the spot on her arm. “Whatever, I’m gonna go run a lap. Good luck Kell.” Whitney leaves them, waving dismissively as she takes off.

“Chris? What do you wanna know about her?” Kelley crosses her arms.

“Nothing!” Tobin says a little too quickly, hoping no one notices. “Nothing,” She repeats, slower this time.

“We were just watching her shoot and damn,” Ashlyn whistles.

Kelley smiles proudly, “Yeah that’s our striker for ya. Takes another 100 shots _after_ practice though, kinda intense.”

“Holy shit. Kinda? How does she even find the energy to do that?” Ashlyn beats Tobin to asking.

“No idea,” Kelley shrugs. “She’s super hard on herself. I try my best to make sure she has fun and has a life _outside_ of soccer. But stubborn as hell, so it’s hard sometimes.”

Tobin hums at what Kelley says, watching Christen dribble the ball before launching it straight into the goalkeeper’s chest, the force of the kick has the goalkeeper stumbling back a little.

Ashlyn and Kelley get into a conversation about plans after the game, which Tobin vaguely overhears something about a party in someone’s suite since both teams are coincidentally staying at the same hotel, but Tobin’s too engrossed with watching Christen.

She’s watched people at different levels throughout her career.

Christen’s _good_.

Like really good.

Like national team level good.

Tobin’s stumped as to why she’s never seen Christen get a call up to any of the national team training camps because it’s clear as day that she deserves one.

“Yo Tobs,” Tobin brings her attention back to her friends who are giving her a peculiar look. “Got a little crush do ya?” Ashlyn teases.

“I do not,” Tobin shakes her head, not wanting to talk about that. She’s not going to act like Christen _isn’t_ pretty either. She has eyes and may find her attractive, but that’s besides the point. “She’s just... really good. How come I’ve never seen her at camps Kell?”

“She’s on the youth-20 team,” Kelley informs them. It isn’t bad, but based on what Tobin’s seeing alone, she seems far too advanced for that.

“But why not the national team? You know, like us,” Tobin gestures between them.

“No idea,” Kelley shrugs, shaking her head. “I know she wants to make the national team, but don’t we all?”

“We are on the national team Kelley,” Ashlyn rolls her eyes, bringing her arm behind her head to stretch.

“Eh,” Kelley shrugs again. “Not sure. I’m sure she’ll make it at one point, just has to be given the chance.” Someone across the field yells Kelley’s name, the three of them turning to the owner of the voice, and it’s Christen, waving her over. “Guess I gotta go. I’ll see ya both after. Good luck y’all, I’m not going easy on you.” She smirks before running off.

“She’s cute,” Ashlyn says thoughtfully as Tobin kicks the ball up to juggle.

“Yeah, she is,” Tobin says absentmindedly, but misses the grin form on Ashlyn’s face as she focuses on juggling the ball along different parts of her leg. 

Tobin doesn’t think about Christen.

At least, that’s what she tells herself. 

\--

UNC wins another NCAA title. The goal for their class was to win four championships, but they weren’t able to win last year. Three’s good, but not good enough. A win is still a win.




Kelley received her second yellow card at the 78th minute of the game, ejecting her from her last collegiate game.

Stanford scored _twice_ , but both goals were disallowed for being offside.

Christen found the back of the net at the 89th minute, playing with one less player, and when the second goal was ruled offside, Tobin couldn’t believe it.

The irony during that whole sequence was that Tobin, who usually can pick the ball from players if they’re close enough, let Christen go by her. It wasn’t on purpose, because if it was, her team would tease her for getting easily distracted by a pretty girl. It hardly ever happened because football was Tobin’s life and if there was ever anything to distract her, a girl would not be it. The bottom of the list because soccer is her life, literally. 

But the speed at which Christen runs, dumbfounds her because she has _never_ seen anyone _that_ fast, and definitely not with a ball at their feet.

Tobin just stopped, and watched Christen zoom the ball by her and her other teammates, blocking out the yelling and cheering from the players, the coaches, and the crowd.

She was honestly amazed and she didn’t know if she should be intimidated or turned on by how good she is (Christen being pretty is a bonus), most likely a little bit of both.

Tobin’s stomach dropped when she saw Christen launch the ball at the box, Ashlyn couldn’t react quick enough and Stanford was on the board with the equalizer. Then the referees disallowed the goal, ruling it offsides, when she _knew_ for a fact it wasn’t because Whitney was right _there_.

Tobin stared at Christen, witnessing so many emotions cross her face and her jaw clenching, shaking her head in disbelief. She thought they were going to go into stoppage time.

It didn’t go unnoticed, but Tobin saw Christen’s eyes turn glossy as she jogged by her to stand at the center circle with three minutes of extra time.

None of the Stanford players were able to score again.

The final whistle gets blown and her teammates are running onto the field, cheering about winning another championship. A few of her teammates jump on her, which she nods her head in acknowledgement that they won, but her focus is directed somewhere entirely else.

At Christen, who’s sitting on the wet grass with her head in between her knees, and her body visibly shaking.

Tobin detaches herself from the team huddle, walking towards Christen, shaking the hands of other players she passes by.

Once Tobin makes it Christen, she doesn’t know what to do nor does Christen look up. She wants to say something, anything, but she doesn’t want to rub the win in her face. She does the first thing that comes to mind, sitting down across the girl who stares blankly at the ground, still not acknowledging that someone’s there.

After a couple minutes of silence between the two with the noise of the crowd around them, Tobin’s the first one to speak.

“Good game,” Tobin says softly, but loud enough for Christen to hear.

Christen doesn’t say anything right away, and Tobin’s not going to pressure her as she patiently sits, scanning the field to see her teammates cheering and a few of the Stanford players sitting on the bench with solemn looks on their faces. Kelley’s crying into one of her teammate’s shoulder, and Tobin makes a mental note to have a talk with her about the game. 

“Thanks,” Christen’s voice snaps her attention back. It comes out shaky and Tobin doesn’t have to look closely to confirm that Christen’s crying.

“No seriously, it was a good game,” Tobin says, fixing her gaze onto Christen’s face, fully taking the girl’s features in.

Tobin has always been able to appreciate beauty and the forms it takes. Physical beauty is its own category that she doesn’t like to comment on because she knows that there’s a lot more to a person than their looks. She’s seen beautiful people from all parts of the world, but there’s something about Christen that’s different.

Christen has a certain _je ne sais quoi_ that Tobin can’t put her finger on and it’s daunting, magnetic even, that she catches herself staring even as they’re soaked from the rain, hair messy with grass stains all over their uniforms.

“Not good enough,” Tobin hears Christen mutter bitterly, breaking her out of her trance to the piercing green eyes staring directly into hers.

“I’m not talking about the game. That’s irrelevant now. I’m talking about you. You played really well.”

“It wasn’t my best if we didn’t win,” Christen says sharply, causing Tobin to flinch at her tone.

Tobin rolls her eyes, not wanting to let Christen’s mood bring her down from her team winning, and pushes herself up, “Okay, whatever. Good game Christen.”

She turns to jog back to her team, opening their arms once they see their midfielder re-appear, leaving Christen alone on the ground, not knowing that the Stanford player was watching her the whole time.

\--

“I think I’m going to take a walk,” Tobin puts the almost empty red solo cup on the table next to her.

One of Tobin’s teammates volunteered their suite to host a party for the team along with an open invitation to any of the Stanford players, if they wanted to join. Most of the Stanford players showed up, with an exception of a couple people. Tobin immediately noticed that Christen wasn’t there, but kept that to herself.

It’s been pleasant socializing with the opposing team because at the end of the day, the game was just a game that they needed to play, and there are other things in the world besides soccer. It’s also the end of a lot of the players’ collegiate careers—Tobin, Whitney, Ashlyn, and Kelley to name a few. The four of them plan to play professionally once they graduate.

Some players snuck out to the liquor store near the hotel to pick up a couple bottles of alcohol and a few cases of beer to include everyone instead of heading to the bar down the road.

Naturally, they’ve been drinking, some more than others.

Tobin’s drank enough for a nice buzz to set in, but is still aware of what’s happening around her. She’s not sober, but she’s more sober than others.

“Where ya going?” Kelley slurs out next to her, the effects of the alcohol becoming more and more apparent, especially since Tobin walked into the room with Kelley taking two shots of some cheap tequila right after the other. 

“Just for a walk, it’s getting a bit stuffy in here,” Tobin stands up, shaking her top because her body feels warm even with the air conditioning blasting at its lowest setting.

“Alright, see ya later,” Kelley waves lazily while bringing her attention back to the conversation with Whitney about their plans over winter break.

Tobin slips out of the suite without anyone noticing, walking towards the elevator to go to the lobby. She was starting to feel suffocated in the room, not because she didn’t like the people because she’s a people person. She enjoys talking to people and listening to their thoughts and opinions.

A lot of them were talking about life after college. Things that included working at a desk job, going back to school for further education, getting married, having kids, buying a house—all things that Tobin’s never put much thought in. 

It’s not that those things have never crossed her mind because they have, but the only thing Tobin can confidently say she sees in her future is football. When her family, or anyone for that matter, asked her what she wanted to be when she grows up, she didn’t know, but would say anything football. Playing football professionally, at the club and international level. She’s thought about even playing football overseas, somewhere in Europe to learn the game in a whole new lens.

All those things that the other players were talking about will happen to her at one point, she knows it will, but she doesn’t want that for herself _now_ , nor has she met someone that makes her feel ready to build a life like that.

It’ll happen, and she’s in no rush.

Soccer is her life right now and until she meets someone who tilts her world on its axis, it’ll be her life.

Once Tobin makes it to the lobby, she wanders around with no clear destination in mind. Though, when she passes the outdoor swimming pool, she sees a familiar face sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water.

Going against her better judgment, the memory of their last interaction fresh in her mind, Tobin exits through the doors to get to the pool.

The sound of the door closing brings the attention of the person sitting on the pool to look up. Tobin stops walking as soon as she’s seen, but the person doesn’t say anything, shrugging and continues to slosh the water back and forth.

Tobin takes it as a sign to keep walking, while noticing a small half-empty bottle of alcohol on the other side.

“May I?” Tobin asks, pointing to the space next to Christen.

“Sure,” Christen replies quietly, not making eye contact.

Tobin sits next to Christen while leaving enough space where she doesn’t feel like she’s crowding the Stanford player, dipping her feet in the water too, the coldness sending a slight shiver up her spine. She leans back on her hands, taking in the clear night sky after a day full of rain.

“I’m sorry,” Christen says after a few minutes of them just being in each other’s presence.

“For what?” Tobin tilts her head to see Christen looking at the pool.

“For earlier. It was completely rude of me to talk to you like that,” Christen explains in a small voice.

“Eh,” Tobin shrugs. She’s sure that if they lost, she might’ve been worse. She doesn’t take losing well. “Not a big deal. It happens.”

“But I don’t know you.”

“And I don’t know you, so let’s call it even,” Tobin offers, and Christen turns her head to look at her.

“You know my name,” Christen raises an eyebrow.

“Well,” Tobin coughs awkwardly, because she hoped Christen wouldn’t have been paying attention that must. “I asked Kelley about you.”

“What? Why?” Christen’s eyes widen.

“Honestly?” Tobin pauses, and Christen waits for her to continue. “I saw you during warmups and was wondering why I’ve never seen you at any national team camps,” Tobin says, bringing one hand up, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Oh,” Christen says dejectedly, shoulders dropping. “I’m on the youth-20 team if that counts for anything.”

“It does,” Tobin reassures her. Playing at any of the national team levels is still an honor. “But you’re, like, _really_ good and I’m just amazed by how good you are. You’re also insanely fast.”

“Thanks,” Christen says shyly, looking away with a small smile forming from the compliment. “Maybe I’ll play on the national team, I don’t really know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that, I don’t know,” Christen shrugs, looking up at the sky. “It’s just I never saw myself playing soccer professionally. But then I met Kelley who’s played for the national team and she makes me believe that I could.”

“I think you could,” Tobin says honestly. “And if you do, I’ll be there too.”

“What?” Christen looks back at Tobin with a stunned expression. “You’ve played for the team too?”

Tobin smirks, “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because you’re just seem so nonchalant about everything and I obviously saw you play during the game, which you’re really good and I can see why you’d be on the team,” Christen explains. “I also didn’t expect you to sit out here with me, when there’s a party going on.”

Tobin chuckles at Christen, scooting a little closer and Christen doesn’t say anything nor does she move away.

If Tobin’s being honest, she’s having more fun sitting outside with Christen than celebrating the win with her teammates.

“It’s fine, I’m having more fun out here,” Tobin nudges her shoulder playfully against Christen’s. “And thanks. I’m sure you’ll get your chance, I just know it.”

Christen smiles and grabs the bottle next to her, offering the whiskey, “So let’s get to know each other.”

“I’m Tobin, by the way.”

\--

They pass the bottle back and forth through a conversation they easily find themselves lost in.

Tobin learns about Christen who grew up in a coastal suburb in southern California with her two sisters. She also finds out that Christen played tennis and did track and field too. She discovers trivial facts about her too like favorite color, food, music—anything that comes to mind.

Christen recounts a story about how her mom put her in soccer when she was a kid, but in her first year, she didn’t actually play. She liked to make flower crowns and put on little shows for her mom while keeping in line with the ball. It wasn’t exactly playing, but it was the best she did. Her mom gave her one more year to see if she’d like the sport and in the first game of the season, she ran for the ball and scored her first goal—the rest was history.

Tobin talks about herself (something she doesn’t really like doing, but with Christen, it’s easy and doesn’t feel forced), growing up in New Jersey with her three siblings and playing soccer for as long as she could remember while explaining that soccer’s her first and only love, and that she’s not sure anything or anyone else could ever compare.

Tobin also confesses that she left the party because of how everyone was talking about the future and life after graduation.

“What’s wrong with that?” Christen asks, after taking a small sip, tilting her head in an analytical way with eyes glazed over that Tobin’s finding it all too cute.

They’re sitting much closer, their shoulders touching with Christen leaning into Tobin. They’re also pleasantly buzzed, genuinely enjoying each other’s company.

Tobin’s thoughts are straying away from her because all she keeps coming back to is how pretty Christen looks in the moonlight and wonders what it’d be like to kiss her. What it’d be like to hold her hand. What it’d be like to know how she took her coffee. What it’d be like to… Shaking herself out of her stupor, realizing she hasn’t answered Christen’s question, “Well I don’t know. The future’s scary to think about like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Buying a house, getting married, having 2.5 kids, all that stuff,” Tobin says, scratching her head.

“Do you want that for yourself?” Christen asks, and Tobin notices how green Christen’s eyes are. “But I’m not sure how you could have half a kid, that seems illegal.”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Tobin shrugs, smiling at her humor. “But I do want to keep playing soccer.”

“Then do that,” Christen says simply. “Whenever you meet someone who makes you think about that stuff, I think that’s when you’ll know that’s for you. We’re still young.”

Tobin doesn’t say anything, taking in all of what Christen said because she’s right. The only thing Tobin wants _now_ is to play soccer and that’s what she’ll do because she’s that confident in herself to succeed.

“Let’s go swimming,” Christen says after a moment of silence.

“What? We don’t have bathing suits on,” Tobin glances down, seeing that Christen’s wearing running shorts and an old shirt while she’s wearing soccer shorts and a hoodie.

“So what? Come on,” Christen elbows Tobin gently. “Don’t be a wuss. If it makes you feel better, I’ll take my top off.”

“You’ll—what’re you doing?” Tobin gulps when Christen brings her hands down to the hem of her shirt.

Christen doesn’t respond, instead pulling the shirt overhead to reveal a black sports bra and tossing the shirt on to one of the pool chairs nearby. Her eyes narrow teasingly at Tobin who’s staring, mouth slightly open at her spontaneity.

“Come on,” Christen murmurs, leaning slightly into Tobin, bringing a hand up to play with the string on Tobin’s sweater.

“I—fuck okay, okay,” Tobin relents, creating some space between her and Christen because she’s all too hot from _whatever_ is happening.

Tobin hurriedly pulls the sweater over her head, taking the shirt along with her, all while Christen’s smirking, leaving the both of them in shorts and sports bras.

“And see ya!” Christen pushes Tobin into the pool as soon as the sweater is thrown off to the side, catching the midfielder off guard.

The water’s _freezing_ and Tobin lets out a yelp as soon as her whole body goes under. She quickly comes back up, shivering when she takes the first breath. She hears Christen laughing, and she should be annoyed with her, but the sound of her laugh is infectious, causing her to do the same.

“That was gold,” Christen says in between breaths, laughing too hard that Tobin sees her holding her stomach.

“Yeah yeah,” Tobin spits the water that got in her mouth. “Come in already,” Tobin reaches to pull on Christen’s leg.

“It’s only fair,” Christen smiles, scooting herself to gracefully slip into the water and shivering a little bit. “It’s cold.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Tobin says, leaning backwards to float on her back.

“Whatever,” Christen mutters, making splashing sounds that Tobin feels the droplets on her face.

“Quit it,” Tobin says, tilting her head to Christen sticking her tongue out at her.

“Make me,” Christen taunts, swimming away.

Tobin takes the challenge and swims after Christen, who squeals when Tobin reaches her. The UNC player wraps her arms around Christen’s midsection, pulling her in and Christen’s arms automatically go around her neck.

They look at each other with soft smiles and quiet chuckles. They’ve had more than enough to drink and are a little more than tipsy, the empty bottle laying on the concrete. Tobin feels her heart pounding in her chest as she stares at Christen, and she swears that her smile makes the butterflies in her stomach more apparent.

“Hi,” Christen sighs, her fingers gently running up and down Tobin’s neck.

The gesture is sending shivers down Tobin’s spine and she replies softly, “Hi.”

“You know,” Christen starts, and Tobin squeezes her sides gently. “You’re pretty great.”

“I know that,” Tobin says cockily, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh shut up,” The forward rolls her eyes, but smiles anyways.

They don’t say anything more, staring at each other intently and Tobin _really_ wants to kiss her right now.

“Can I kiss you?” Tobin blurts out. She didn’t want to come off like _that_. It’s a little forward for her.

“If you weren’t going to ask, I was just going to do it anyways,” Christen says softly, leaning in with a small smile. 

Tobin leans in to meet her, and their lips _barely_ touch before—

“Hey!” A voice has them separating so fast.

They look to the source of the voice and see a hotel employee shining a flashlight from the doors.

“The pool’s closed. You can’t be in this area,” He informs.

“Sorry!” Tobin replies, shielding Christen from the light. “We’ll leave right now.”

“No problem,” He waves the light at them one more time before shutting it off, turning to walk back into the hotel.

Tobin turns to see Christen slightly flushed, likely from getting caught, but she can’t help but think that maybe it also has to do with their somewhat kiss. They make eye contact and laugh, Christen shaking her head and Tobin smirking.

“Walk me to my room?”

\--

They find clean towels that minimizes the amount of water dripping onto the hotel’s floor as they walk back to Christen’s room.

They’re giggling quietly and bumping shoulders, and Tobin realizes she doesn’t know when she’ll see Christen next, or if she’ll ever see her again. The thought saddens her, but she’s with her right now and that somewhat makes up for it.

Tobin just doesn’t want this to end. She didn’t think she’d form this strong of a connection so fast in a short time.

“So this is me,” Christen says, pulling the keycard out of her pocket as they stand in front of the room door.

“This is you,” Tobin repeats, facing Christen as she fiddles with the card, wrapped in her towel.

“Keep in touch?” Christen offers, recognizing that this might be the last time she actually sees Tobin.

“I’m sure I’ll see you on the national team,” Tobin says confidently, and Christen beams.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Tobin smiles.

Still a bit drunk with the alcohol giving her the confidence she needs to do, Tobin takes a small step forward, and leans to kiss Christen gently on the cheek. “Good night Christen,” She takes a step back and Christen brings her hand up to where she kissed her, smiling softly.

“Good night Tobin.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone reading and sticking with me, the support keeps me going. 
> 
> be safe, cheers!

**Author's Note:**

> well here we are again. i've decided to re-write the first five chapters because i was blown away from the reaction of the story i recently posted, so that gave me a little push to restart this one. it's minor tweaks here and there, but i think it'll help the story flow better and help me remember what is going on. i'm editing the other chapters and working on the next chapter because i think we all want to know how this story's going to turn out (myself included, lol). 
> 
> thank you again for reading. i appreciate the support. and who knows, there might be another story i just throw out if i don't get too carried away with the word count. 
> 
> be safe, cheers.


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